“A collection of profound and epic album reviews and musical articles by former astronaut and brain surgeon, Alasdair Kennedy. Reaching levels of poetry that rival Keats and Blake, the following reviews affirm Alasdair to be a prodigy, a genius and a god whose opinion is always objectively right. He is also without a doubt the most modest man in the universe.” - Alasdair Kennedy

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Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Review of 'Villains' by Queens Of The Stone Age

QOTSA’s new album is
badly-produced Bowie-worship.

Okay, that description’s a tad harsh. ‘Bowie-worship’ makes
it sound like I don’t enjoy the fact that Josh Homme now sounds like Bowie,
when in fact that’s one of the highlights of this record. As for
‘badly-produced’, well, I have a feeling Mark Ronson didn’t just so happen to
fuck up the mastering by spilling coffee on the mixing board. The production is
intentionally supposed to sound this tinny and some listeners don’t seem to
mind it. But for me, it’s a real barrier.

Villains follows
much in the same vein as the rockers’ last album Like Clockwork…, which saw the band trading in catchy crowd-pleasing
guitar anthems for meditative gloomy dirges. The lyrics continue to be as dark,
lingering on topics of death but with a touch of humour behind them. They’re
some of Homme’s most inventive to date – the singer even going so far as to
invent his own words on numerous occasions to get his point across such as ‘macaberet’
and ‘screwicide’.

Homme’s lyrics aren’t the only aspect that’s more creative. Instrumentally,
these songs are also kookier, as exemplified from the start with opener ‘Feet
Don’t Fail Me’, which begins with sci-fi synths and a hammering drum like some
mutated version of the Flash Gordon soundtrack, before erupting into a stomping
guitar groove. ‘Head Like A Haunted House’ meanwhile is a Dead-Kennedys-like punk
jam, whilst ‘Hideaway’ rides a Bowie-esque synth sporting a spacey ‘Ashes to
Ashes’ feel (there’s Bowie vibes all over this album).

Of course, the band have also decided to get creative with
the production, which is where my praises for this record end. The second track
‘The Way You Used To’ feels like it could have been an upbeat dance-worthy rock
gem if it wasn’t over-compressed to sound as flat as a toad on a motorway. And
then there’s the end of ‘Un-Reborn Again’, which sees all the instruments
coming into the mix for what could have been an epic crescendo if Mark Ronson
hadn’t dampened it by turning down the volume knob.

This is the producer who gave us ‘Uptown Funk’, so there’s
no reason the production should sound this flaccid other than Mark wanting it
to sound like that. Josh Homme and crew must have decided they liked it too. And
some fans and critics don’t seem to be phased. To me, it may as well be a tasty
spicy dish with a jar of cream dumped in – it’s got no kick. It’s a hypercar
with a speed limiter on it. It’s Floyd Mayweather with no arms. It’s a decaffeinated
espresso shot. It’s sex in the dark.